


my favorite hobby, self-sabotage

by ghostuser901



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Phone Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, generally dubious behaviour, peter parker making bad decisions, tony stark making worse decisions, undernegotiated consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostuser901/pseuds/ghostuser901
Summary: For the prompt : Tony and Peter just having their small late night call, and Peter ending up getting horny by listening to Tony talk, so he touches himself and also being careful as to not make a sound. "Peter... are you touching yourself?" "...Tony, I can-" "-Well, I didn't say you should stop, now did I?"
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015824
Comments: 14
Kudos: 189





	my favorite hobby, self-sabotage

**Author's Note:**

> uploading from [tumblr](https://saltystarker.tumblr.com/)
> 
> title from making bad decisions by bea miller, bc it felt fitting

There’s something about the low timbre of Tony Stark’s voice that has always left Peter hot under the collar. Maybe it’s his aloof tone, maybe the slight gravel that crops up sometimes, or maybe it’s the deep resonance of it, but whatever it is it never fails to leave him blushing, wanting, and a little hard.

Tonight is no different, their usual five minute pre-bedtime catchup stretching slightly longer as Tony launches into a story about an incident that occurred in the lab earlier, something involving Dum-e and something else and… Peter stopped paying attention a while back, letting himself be lulled by the sound.

It’s been a long day, and really, he had just wanted to relax and go to bed, but the low drawl of Tony’s voice has him growing more than a little hard in his pants. Maybe it’s the thought that they’re both laying in bed right now, separated only by distance. If he closes his eyes, Peter can almost picture Tony here next to him instead.

It’s quite the image, he thinks, as he palms himself gently to try and relive some of the pressure. He immediately recognises his mistake as his eyes snap open, wrenching him back to the present moment.

“And I swear, I swear I never even touched the thing,” Tony prattles on, unaware of Peter’s current predicament. Completely unaware.

No, that’s a terrible train of thought, Peter thinks as he swiftly removes his hand from his dick, trying to refocus on the thread of the story. That’s a horrible idea. Just because Tony can’t see him, just because he’s so lost in his tirade, does not mean that Peter could. It absolutely does not mean Peter has any right to. Does it?

The more he thinks about it, the harder he becomes, hand gripping the phone tighter and tighter as his cock only grows harder. The idea of it is proving to be too tempting, allure too bright.

He almost exclusively thinks of Tony when he jerks off anyway, he tries to reason, as lays totally still under the spell of Tony’s voice. He’d be thinking about this exact thing later anyway, fantasising about getting off while Tony talks him through it over the phone. He would just be expediting the process a little, doing it now. Tony wouldn’t have to know.

Decision made, bypassing logical reason that desperately tries to tell him how bad of an idea this really is, Peter switches the phone to his left hand, then sneaks his other one down into his boxers and takes a hold of himself.

Then he very carefully gives a short tug. He clamps down on a relieved exhale, forcing himself to breathe steadily. The thrill of what he’s doing dances under his skin, anticipation rushing through his veins.

He pumps his hand a couple more times, experimental. He can hear the shift of fabric as his arm moves, and stills, waiting for a reaction that never comes. Emboldened, he tries again, making sure to move his arm in short slow strokes so as not to upset the bedding too much.

Tony’s deep voice drones through the receiver, each point of enunciation sending a jolt straight through Peter to his cock.

God, it feels good, the knowledge that he’s doing this while Tony lays unaware on the other side only getting him harder, a bead of wetness forming at the tip of his cock. He swipes of the head, catching the liquid with his thumb and smearing it over him to ease the slide. It feels so good that he does it again, and again, thumb pressing into the spongy head, making his breath catch in his throat.

He stills again, but Tony makes no sound of having heard him, and Peter take that as a sign to continue, his need mounting as he pleasures himself. Tony sounds so good, so hot, and Peter imagines what he would say to him if he knew, if he were on board with it.

Caught up in the fantasy, the heat coiling in his stomach, he can’t quite hold back the gasp of pleasure that has been building for so long. Immediately, Tony cuts off, and Peter freezes, heat and embarrassment flooding him. The silence rings loud in his ears as he desperately tries to steady his breathing.

Then, Tony speaks. He sounds curious more than anything, voice a hairs breadth deeper. “Peter… are you touching yourself?”

“I. God, I’m sorry I, Mr, Stark, I can-”

“Well, I didn’t say you should stop, now did I?” Tony said, cutting off his stuttered attempt at an apology. His voice, Peter hasn’t heard that tone directed at him before, and it sends a sliver of arousal shooting down his spine, flush growing steadily across his skin.

“You, uh,” Peter says, eloquent as always, hand still wrapped around his dick, frozen to the spot.

“Carry on, kid, I haven’t got all night,” and oh, God, that’s. Peter’s dick pulses where it’s held tight in his hand and he lets out an involuntary whine.

“There you go,” Tony says, and he sounds like he’s trying very hard to remain unaffected, and failing.

“Mr. Stark” Peter says, and its half question, half moan, as he tentatively strokes a tentative hand up his cock.

“Jesus.” There’s a lot of rustling from the other end of the phone, accompanied only by Tony’s slightly laboured breathing. “If you’re gonna jack off while you’re on the phone to me, Pete, then you’re gonna damn well see it through.”

“Fuck,” Peter exhales.

Tony huffs a laugh on the other end of the phone. “Succinct,” he says, consonants popping, pleasure shooting through Peter’s body at the sound.

He lets out a soft moan and is rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

“Do you like me speaking to you, Peter, is that it?” Tony asks, like he already knows the answer, cocky, assured. “Like the sound of my voice, darling?”

“Yes,” Peter says, involuntarily.

“Want me to talk you through it, then?” Tony says, voice falling into something deeper, smoother.

“Yes,” Peter moans back, hand speeding up on his dick. He’s done for, and he’s absolutely not going to last if Tony is going to talk to him like that.

Tony hums, low in his throat, in answer. “Yeah, you want me to get you off, baby, want me to tell you what to do. I’ll tell you what to do.” He seems to be talking mostly to himself, but it has Peter’s toes curling regardless, so turned on he feels like he’s on fire with it.

“Stroke that pretty cock of yours, baby, I bet you look so beautiful like this, huh, all hard and needy for me,” Tony continues. He seems to know exactly what to say to have Peter bucking up frantically into his fist, chasing sensation as he hurtles closer and closer to the knife’s edge.

“Please,” Peter chokes out, desperation ripping through him. “Please, Mr. Stark”

“Fuck,” Tony says eloquently in response, sounding strained.

And that, the knowledge that this is doing something to him, that its affecting him too, that more than anything else causes the electric burn of pleasure to coalesce inside him, gathering deep in his core.

“I want you to make yourself come for me, Peter, want you to spill all over yourself, can you do that for me?”

A strangled noise makes its way out of Peter’s throat, pleasure mounting with each harsh stroke of his hand.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tony says, his voice low, gentle. “Let go, sweetheart.”

Peter’s mouth falls open in a silent scream as he crashes over the edge, dick pulsing out thick ropes of come over his abs and chest, hot liquid splashing against his skin sending shockwaves through him.

He comes down slowly, panting for breath, remains of arousal jolting him every time Tony breathes over the phone.

“Better?” Tony asks.

“Y-Yes, Mr. Stark” Peter says, voice shaky. The reality of what has just happened is slowly starting to sink in, and shame and embarrassment, held back under the deluge of sensation, are slowly surfacing, curling in his stomach.

He just had the best orgasm of his life on the phone to Tony Stark, his mentor, his friend. Oh, God, what has he done. He’s never going to be able to look Mr. Stark in the eye ever again. He probably hates him, probably thinks Peter is disgusting, probably thinks –

“Good,” Tony says, clearing his throat awkwardly. And oh, here it comes, he’s gonna tell Peter to never contact him again, he’s going to – “Same time tomorrow?”

Peter’s mind screeches to a halt. He swears he can see an error message in his mind as his ears fill with white noise.

“I, you, I,” he stutters, scrambling around for something to say.

Tony huffs on the other side of the phone, impatient. Peter wishes he could just see his face, try and comprehend what it is that he’s thinking.

“I need an answer, Pete,” Tony says, and he’s not unkind, per se, but there is a definite edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “Consent,” he states, as though that word alone holds all the answers.

Part of Peter, the rational part, tells him to say no, tells him it’s a terrible idea. This shouldn’t have happened in the first place, it’s so many levels of wrong, and he should just say that he doesn’t think it’s wise to continue.

“Yes,” he blurts out before his mouth can catch up with the path of his thoughts. “Yes, please Mr. Stark, I’d like that,” he says in a rush, breathless. After all, it is only a very small part of him that’s thinking rationally, and honestly, he can’t quite bring himself to care. Not when Tony’s here, and he’s offering. There’s no way he could ever say no.

He barely catches Tony’s sigh of relief, but he doesn’t miss the whispered “good boy,” that crackles through the receiver. He feels his face heat, mind exploding with possibilities, from those words alone.

“Great,” Tony says, at normal volume. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even join in.”

Peter shivers at the thought, lips quirking in an involuntary smile.

“It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> pls give me feedback :)


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